


Fear

by RogueLioness



Series: Thedosian Tales [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Angst, F/M, Grief, More angst, Sadness, Sorrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 12:53:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11464002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueLioness/pseuds/RogueLioness
Summary: Lavellan thought she understood what fear truly meant.She was wrong.





	Fear

It had been two days since Lavellan had returned to Skyhold, battered and bloodied but  _ triumphant,  _ a little more than a week since she’d faced the darkspawn magister for the final time, her heart in her throat as she channeled every bit of her fury, her rage, her fear into pulling away the orb that had once belonged to her people away from him. The power had slammed into her, a flood that had threatened to drown her but she held on stubbornly, a thought in the distant part of her mind that  _ I must do this, I must show him I can do this, maybe this will change his mind _ .

It had worked to end Corypheus. 

It had not worked for the orb.

Her heart had shattered anew when she spotted Solas, kneeling distraught over the broken remains of the foci. She’d apologized, over and over, had promised to find a way to fix it,  _ Dagna can take a look at it, she’s an arcanist, if anyone can repair it it will be her, ir abelas vhenan. _

But nothing she said had soothed his grief. And though she hated herself for it, a part of her had rejoiced in his sadness, gleefully noting that he was in the same pain she had been when he had broken her heart in the soft-lit cave where the Veil tingled on her skin.

Just as another part of her bitterly pointed out that the loss of this artifact caused him more distress than the loss of her.

There had been little time to seek him out again amidst the cheers of her companions. They’d sought out healers, and it was then that his absence had been noticed.  _ You have several broken ribs, _  Cassandra had said, grimly noting the blue-black bruises on her torso,  _ Solas should take a look at them. You cannot ride back to Skyhold in this condition. _

But Solas wasn’t there. He’d left.

_ Without the orb _ , she’d thought disjointedly before passing out,  _ there’s nothing left for him in the Inquisition. _

Her dreams had been a blur of colors, hazy and smeared. One minute she reached out for him, the next her hand brushed across soft white fur as she gazed blearily into deep red eyes that were filled with such sorrow she wept, her sobs blending with the harsh cries of the despair demons that watched her from a distance.

When she awoke next, she’d found herself in her bed, having been placed carefully in the middle of it.  _ This is wrong _ , she’d immediately thought, and rolled over to one corner -  _ her _  corner, from all those months of sharing a bed with a quiet man with gentle hands and a haunted look in his eye.

His side of the bed grew cold over the rest of the night as she waited for him, knowing it was futile, but hopeful nevertheless.

It had been two days since that night, when it became so painfully clear that he truly was gone. That he’d left without keeping his promise to her.  _ This is not the time to talk _ , he’d said.  _ Harden your heart to a cutting edge. And after the battle is won, I promise I will tell you everything _ .

But he hadn’t.

He took her heart, and broke it. He made her a promise, and broke it.

Was it any wonder she felt as though she were in pieces?

When she’d woken up three long years ago in the dungeons of Haven, she’d feared death, but it had been with a selfishness. She didn’t want to die, she wanted to return to her clan, to do the things she had always wanted to do. Then, when she’d understood the nature of the mark she bore on her hand, that she was the only one who could close the tears in the Veil that drew demons to plague the land, her fear of death had deepened, because she knew she couldn’t afford to die - if she did, all of Thedas was doomed.

But then Haven had fallen, and she’d stared down death in the form of a dragon and a corrupted ancient darkspawn magister, and had gone on to face death on a near-daily basis, and she’d pushed aside her fear of death in favor of maintaining her sanity.

And now, now she knew she’d been a fool. It should never have been death that she feared. It was what she felt now.

Empty. Hollow.

For all she’d seen, and all she’d faced, and all the ugly truths she’d learned, nothing had ever caused her this level of pain. To think that it wasn’t Corypheus she should have feared, nor pain, nor death, but a man who had once loved her - it would have been laughable had it not been so pitiable.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As you can tell... I have Solavellan feels.


End file.
